merely wishes to say dat
f'um now on, so fur ez I is concerned, natchel history is a utter
failure."

CHAPTER IV

IT COULD HAPPEN AGAIN TO-MORROW

"Sorry, ma'am," said the Pullman conductor, "but there's not a bit of
space left in the chair car, nor the sleeper neither."

"I'm sorry too," said the young woman in the tan-colored tailor-mades.
She was smartly hatted and smartly spatted; smart all over from
toque-tip to toe-tip. "I didn't know until almost the last minute that
I'd have to catch this train, and trusted to chance for a seat."

"Yes'm, I see," commiserated the man in blue. "But you know what the
rush is this time of year, and right now on top of all that so many of
the soldiers getting home from the other side and their folks coming
East to meet 'em and everything. I guess though, miss, you won't have
much trouble getting accommodated in one of the day coaches."

"I'll try it," she said, "and thank you all the same."

She picked up her hand bag.

"Wait a minute," he suggested. "I'll have my porter carry your valise on
up to the other cars."

Men of all stations in life were rather given to offering help to Miss
Mildred Smith, the distinguished interior decorator and--on the
side--amateur investigator for Uncle Sam with a wartime record for
services rendered which many a professional might have envied. Perhaps
they were the more ready to offer it since the young woman seemed so
rarely to need it.

This man's reward was a brisk little nod.

"Please don't bother," she said. "This bag isn't at all heavy, and I'm
used to traveling alone and looking out for myself." She footed it
briskly along the platform of the Dobb's Ferry station. At the door of
the third coach back from the baggage car a flagman stopped her.

"All full up in here, lady," he told her, "but I think maybe you might
find some place to sit in the next car beyond. If you'll just leave your
grip here I'll bring it along to you after we pull out."

As she reached the door of the coach ahead the train began to move. This
coach was comfortably filled--and more than comfortably filled. Into the
aisles projected elbows and feet and at either side doubled rows of
backs of heads showed above the red plush seats. She shrugged her
shoulders; it meant standing for a while at least; probably someone
would be getting off soon--this train was a local, making frequent
stops. It was not the train she would have chosen had the choosing been